Hope and Ruin
by BlackCapricornDay
Summary: Set in the aftermath of Star Trek: First Contact. In 2063, Lily Sloane, Zefram Cochrane, and the alien visitor embark on a dangerous journey across post-apocalyptic Earth. One-shot, maybe.


"Tell me about San Francisco."

Cochrane puts his hand on the back of the driver's seat, takes a swig from his flask, and turns to face the alien in the rear seat of the convertible. "Beautiful place. You're gonna love it, Solkar."

"Last bastion of civilization in what was once called the United States of America," Sloane adds, eyes on the sunlit desert road and her hands on the wheel. "The Californians are pretty much our only shot at getting you an audience with our planet's governments. They're paranoid as hell, though. If they saw your ship, they'd shoot first and ask questions later."

"That's why we're taking this fine lady," Cochrane says, patting the red-painted car door frame. "'67 Chevy. Only one in the Northwest. Of course, I had to swap out the original engine to make her electric-compatible. She used to run on gasoline. Not gonna find too much of that stuff around anymore."

"My crew was quite insistent that I not travel in this vehicle," Solkar tells them.

"They didn't seem to thrilled about you staying on Earth at all," Sloane observes.

He raises an eyebrow. "I am the senior researcher on this mission. It is my prerogative to remain on this world to gather information."

"Well, I feel better having them up in orbit. Hell of a lot better than having anyone down here getting their hands on your technology." Cochrane adjusts the car's stereo. "Aw. Yes! Listen to this."

He turns a knob. A voice is singing: _Now-a, you know you're a cute little heartbreaker! Aw, foxy!_

"Foxy," Cochrane whispers. He faces Solkar. "Jimi Hendrix. One of our planet's greatest artists."

"It is quite fascinating," Solkar calls over the music. "There is a certain profundity in the counterpoint of the human voice over the cacophonous noise."

"I tell ya, this music. 1960s. A god damn golden age."

"Yeah," Sloane says. "For some of us."

Solkar narrows his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Better that you don't know just yet." Sloane looks at the horizon. Three black spots are visible against a vast nuclear dust cloud. The spots grow closer, and there is a deep, bone-rattling roar as they come into view.

"More fighter jets. Never seen this many around here," Sloane says.

"The _Phoenix_ and Solkar's ship must have set off every functioning early warning system on the planet," Cochrane opines. "They know something's up, but I doubt they know what. Long as they don't start shooting." His voice is drowned out as the black, triangular aircraft pass overhead. "Hey, Solkar – what did you say your planet was called?"

Solkar tells him.

Cochrane scowls. "People won't be able to say that. We gotta give it a name that's recognizable. Maybe something from Greek mythology. I thought I heard a 'v' sound in there. How about Vesta? Goddess of the hearth."

Sloane considers this. "So he's a Vestan."

"Yeah. Whadda you think, buddy?"

Solkar pauses. "I do not believe it to be better or worse than an alternative option."

Cochrane nods. "Right on. Vestans. I like it."

Sloane adjusts the mirror. "Uh oh. Zee. Look at this."

Cochrane looks over his shoulder at the road behind him. Two motorcycles are approaching the vehicle from behind. "Shit." He opens the glove compartment and pulls out a sawed-off shotgun.

Solkar looks startled. "Is that a firearm?"

Cochrane loads the weapon. "Hopefully we don't need it. There are a lot of nomadic people out here, and let's just say they ain't exactly the cream of humanity. Probably looking for heroin money. We'll remind them of the agreement in which we do their repairs, no questions asked, and they leave us the hell alone."

One of the bikers brandishes an assault rifle, and Sloane pulls to the side of the road and stops. The bikers pull up next to them. One of them steps forward, a disheveled young man with a long, stringy blond beard. He is wearing a camouflage jacket with an American flag patch sewn on the sleeve, and no shirt underneath. He approaches the car.

"What do you want?" Cochrane demands, his hand close to the concealed shotgun.

The man eyes the car. "Nice ride you got here."

"We're just passing through. We're scientists, from the colony in Bozeman."

The man chews something. "Yeah well, you just hit a checkpoint. Of the United States Militia."

Cochrane regards him with disdain. "Yeah, I'm sure you're here under personal orders of Colonel Green himself."

"Weird shit's been going on round here," says the biker. His companion stands behind him, a hulking bald man with thick, tattooed arms, a thick beard, and an assault rifle. "It's the responsibility of every patriot to be vigilant," he says.

"Look, we don't have any money. Or drugs. Just let us go. You do anything to us, and our friends are gonna know, and then who's gonna fix your shit when it breaks?"

The blond man's eyes dart between Cochrane, Sloane, and Solkar. "You god damn scientists. You started all this, you know. Messin' around with genetics."

"Yeah, yeah," Cochrane says.

The biker turns to leave, then pauses, glaring at Solkar. He narrows his eyes. "Who's he?"

"He's nobody," Cochrane responds. "Picked him up outside the monastery a few miles back. Weird guy. Doesn't say much."

The biker hesitates a moment, then turns away, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He and his companion get on their bikes. Sloane waits until they are well down the road before turning the key in the ignition.

"Shit," Cochrane swears.

Sloane turns to him. "What is it?"

"Vulcan."

"What?"

He takes a drink. "Vulcan is better than Vestan. Has the connotation of the forge." He glances over his shoulder. "Ya like that, Solkar?"

"Again, I do not believe that one option is intrinsically better than any other. So long as we are consistent."

Sloane looks back at him. "Bet you Vulcans never had a nuclear war, did you."

Solkar looks between the humans. "In fact, my people experienced a similarly devastating conflict, centuries ago. But we too survived, and by embracing logic, we rebuilt our world. You can do the same."

Sloane pulls back onto the road. "Yeah, well, I'd say it could go either way at this point," she says as more fighter jets rumble beyond the horizon.

* * *

It is late afternoon when they arrive at a small, dusty gas station and saloon on the side of the road, connected to power lines which stretch into the distance. The sun hangs over the barren mountains in the distance, and it casts a sickly yellow pallor over the desert.

There is a small woman sitting on a chair near the electrical station, a rifle in her lap. She is old and wizened, with long grey hair tied behind her head, and wearing jeans and a faded Rihanna t-shirt. Her head perks up at the sound of the car's approach, and she clutches the rifle. Then her eyes focus on the car, and she relaxes as it pulls up to the charging station, next to a parked pre-war Subaru.

"Zee!" she calls as the vehicle comes to a stop. "I literally can't even."

"Hey, Ximena," Cochrane replies as he steps out of the car. "Lookin' beautiful as ever."

"Seventy years young, don't feel a day over fifty five." The elderly woman turns to Sloane and smiles. "Lil! How the hell are you, girl?"

Sloane grins back. "Pretty good, actually. We're on our way to San Francisco."

"Oh my god, can you take me with you? They have internet there. God damn, I miss the internet." She stands slowly. "Well, make yourselves at home, you've come a long way. Zee, I've got some of that Utah moonshine that Froggy makes." She pauses. "Hey, how'd it go with the _Phoenix_? You get that thing off the ground yet?"

There is an expression of satisfaction on Cochrane's face. "Hell yeah we did. Worked better than I could have expected."

"So glad to hear that. Something got everyone's attention, and I thought it had to either be you, or Khan himself had got defrosted somewhere in the northwest."

"Well, it wasn't just us," Sloane says in a low voice. She nods to Solkar, who is hanging back near the car. "We attracted some other attention too."

Solkar steps forward and takes off his hood. "Live long and prosper."

Ximena stares blankly.

"Solkar's ship was doing a survey in our solar system when the _Phoenix_ broke the warp barrier," Sloane explains softly. "He's a scientist from another world."

"I am a Vulcan," Solkar adds.

Ximena is silent for a long time. "I don't believe it."

"A logical response. However, I can assure you that I am being truthful."

She peers at the alien. "What is that translator technology you're using? I see your lips moving, but what I hear is completely different. I've never seen technology like that."

"They have a lot of shit you've never seen before," Cochrane tells her.

Ximena studies Solkar. "Well, if that's true, you picked sort of an unfortunate time to come to Earth."

"Yes. I believe your planet is in urgent need of humanitarian assistance."

"You're not wrong about that." She turns to Sloane and Cochrane. "Is that why you're going to the city?"

Sloane nods. "I have a friend who's a citizen. We want to get Solkar inside so he can talk to the mayor. With any luck, we can convince her to organize peace talks so Solkar can talk some god damn sense into everybody."

Ximena continues to stare at Solkar. "Hey, do you… do you mind if I take a selfie with you? It's something us old timers do. Just a picture."

Solkar regards her seriously. "You may proceed."

She rummages through her worn brown purse and pulls out a beaten, scarred smart phone. "I really appreciate that. Here, let's all get in close… there." She looks closely at the photo through the cracked screen. "That's a good one," she murmurs.

Then she blinks, returning from her reverie. "Well, you'd better get chargin'. I'm on the San Francisco grid – I'll help you make a call, Lil. And why don't you all get something to eat inside?"

"Thanks, Ximena. This really means a lot." Sloane follows the old woman, and Cochrane stays behind near the car. He pulls the thick cable from the power station and plugs it into the Chevy.

Solkar watches Cochrane. "Do you think she believes that I am from another world?"

"I dunno. You do look a lot like us." He stands up, his hand on the trunk of the car. "What's it like on your planet?"

The alien looks around at the parched landscape. "Much like this, actually. My world is primarily desert." They begin to walk together toward the building. "I would say it possesses an austere beauty."

"What are the women like?"

Solkar raises an eyebrow. "Competent and logical, generally speaking."

"I bet." Cochrane eyes him. "What about you? Got a wife back home?"

"A husband. His name is V'Tal."

"Cool."

They enter the dimly lit roadhouse. A single lightbulb hangs from the center of the room, illuminating shelves sparsely stocked with canned food. There is a counter to their left with an antiquated cash register, and to their right is an open space with several chairs and tables, a bar, and a pool table.

A man is sitting at the bar, eating a burrito. He has East Asian features and a long black ponytail, and wears a leather jacket and aviators. As they enter, he turns to look at them.

Solkar says to Cochrane in a low voice, "Perhaps I should find somewhere private to attempt to contact my ship, rather than attracting more attention than necessary."

"Good idea."

The Vulcan steps back outside, and Cochrane sizes up the man at the bar.

The man stands up. "Game of pool?"

"Sure. I need a drink first."

"It's on me." The man takes a steel jug and pours a clear liquid into a faded ceramic mug. He gives it to Cochrane, then straightens the billiard balls. "Break?"

Cochrane nods. He takes a drink and winces slightly, then takes a cue and breaks. The balls scatter across the table, and two roll into a corner pocket.

The man leans over the table, studying the formation of the balls. "My name's Chen."

Cochrane lines up another shot. "Where you from, Chen?"

"Guangzhou, originally."

"Sorry to hear that. I grew up in Philly, myself." He raises his drink. "To lost cities."

"It's a goddamn waste." Chen takes a drink from his mug. "Are you Zefram Cochrane?"

"That depends."

Chen shoots, sinking a ball, then powders his cue. "I've been hoping to meet you. I hear you got something my employers are interested in."

"Employers?" Cochrane takes a shot. "You talkin' about the ECON?"

"We're aware of the _Phoenix_ project. We're interested."

"How interested?"

Chen lowers his glasses. "Let's just say they want to make sure you're fairly compensated."

"Alright, well I think we might be able to make a deal." Cochrane sinks a ball and grins.

* * *

Solkar walks along the side of the road, holding his comm unit in the air and staring at it intently. He taps it a few times, and a set of alien symbols light up.

"Solkar to _T'Plana-Hath_ ," he says in his language.

A young Vulcan woman's face appears on the screen. "This is T'Shonra. Are you alright, sir?"

He looks around. "Yes, for the time being."

"We detected increased military activity in your area."

"Indeed. The various factions on this planet appear to have been alerted to the warp flight, and possibly our arrival."

"The High Command believes a nuclear conflagration is imminent," T'Shonra tells him.

"They were in contact with you again?"

"Yes. They wished to reiterate that you were not authorized to make contact with the humans, and that we have been recalled to the homeworld effective immediately."

He raises an eyebrow. "What did you tell them?"

"The truth. That you were travelling with the humans through a heavily irradiated region of the planet where only sporadic contact was possible, and that you had ordered us to hold position until we could retrieve you."

As she speaks, a male appears behind her on the screen. "Sir," he says, "have you considered the possibility that a conflagration may in fact be imminent?"

"That is why we are here, Sevek," Solkar responds. "We monitored this planet during its first nuclear war. The High Command was aware it was inevitable, and yet did nothing while six hundred million lives were lost."

"It is their policy to avoid interference with prewarp societies."

"And perhaps that is a logical policy. However, the humans are warp-capable. If we agree that the lives of all sentient beings are valuable, there is no logical justification for us to stand by while a genocide occurs, if we have the capability to prevent it."

"The High Command does not concur with that line of reasoning," T'Shonra informs him. "They have decreed that all further contact with the humans take place through official channels."

"Tell them I would not presume to disobey a decree of the High Command, but it is my assessment that it would be unsafe for you to retrieve me at this time." Solkar pauses. "However, if either of you are uncomfortable with remaining here to wait for me, I fully understand if you comply with the High Command's instructions."

T'Shonra and Sevek glance at each other. "We will remain here and wait for you, sir. You are our research supervisor."

Solkar looks between them. "Your concern for me is gratifying."

There is a dull roar, and two objects approach on the highway, kicking up clouds of dust behind them.

"Remain in orbit until further instruction," he instructs them. "If I do not contact you for two cycles, you must return to Vulcan. If possible, try to persuade the High Command to intervene in the event of war on this planet."

"Understood."

He eyes the approaching motorcycles. "Solkar out."

* * *

Sloane and Ximena are sitting on the porch smoking cigarettes as the sun sets over the mountains.

"Do you really think they can help us fix this place?" Ximena asks, taking a drag.

Sloane taps her cigarette into a brass ashtray between their deck chairs. "Yeah. I do. Solkar said they have technology to deal with the radiation. He says the environmental destruction is bad, but can be reversed with the right techniques."

Ximena stares into the distance. "Wouldn't that be something, for the Earth to be green again. To rebuild our cities, and have normal lives."

"You should come up and visit us in Bozeman sometime. It ain't much, but there are trees."

She shakes her head. "This place would be picked clean by the time I got back. It's all I have."

The door opens and Cochrane steps out. He gestures to Sloane. "Lil, let's talk."

Sloane puts her cigarette out and follows Cochrane toward the car.

"Change of plans," he tells her. "I'm selling the _Phoenix_ to the ECON."

"What? Zee –"

"I'm selling it, and then we're getting the hell off this planet. We're going to Vulcan. I'm going to buy passage on Solkar's ship."

"Alright, first of all, do you think he cares about money?"

"Everyone's got a price, Lil. And with what the ECON's paying, I can guarantee you –"

"And second," she interrupts him, "We can't just leave Earth. They need us here, Zee. With the Vulcans' help, we're going to rebuild this planet."

"Oh, come on, Lily, do you really think that's going to happen? Look around you!" He gestures vaguely into the distance. "What do you think Solkar sees when he looks at this place, huh? What do you think his logical evaluation is? A wasted planet ruled by violent warlords? You think there's any logic in sharing their technology with us? There is no future here!"

"There is a future!" Sloane retorts. "We've both seen it!"

"What, the spacemen?"

"Yes!" Sloane says insistently. "The spacemen! I was on their ship. Jean-Luc showed me how they live. It's a better world, Zee, and it's worth fighting for!"

Cochrane shakes his head. "I don't know who those people were. And you know, I had half a mind to just shoot Solkar the second he stepped out of that ship, and take it for myself. If I'd been drunker, I might have done it. We are not good people here, Lily." He coughs. "We don't deserve their help."

"Hey!" comes a voice. "Scientists!"

Cochrane and Sloane turn to follow the sound. In the fading light, they see the two bikers approaching on the empty highway on foot. The blond man is holding Solkar by the back of his robe, with the barrel of a pistol at the alien's neck. The second follows close behind, holding his automatic rifle in one hand with the barrel on his shoulder.

"Aw, for chrissakes," Cochrane swears, reaching for his gun in the glove compartment.

"We found your monk wandering on the side of the road," the biker calls. "Thought we'd bring him back to ya."

Ximena is shuffling toward them, holding her rifle and watching the newcomers warily, with Chen following behind her.

"The hell are they doing here? I paid this month's protection money." She takes aim at the bikers and says to Chen, "You should get inside."

"Don't think so." He reaches underneath his leather jacket. There is a click.

Cochrane cocks his shotgun and points it at the biker holding Solkar. "Let him go."

The second biker trains his assault rifle on Cochrane. Chen draws two pistols, pointing one at the blond biker and one at Cochrane. As he does, the Ximena turns to take aim at him.

Cochrane looks bewildered. "Chen! What are you doing?"

"Sorry, doctor, but I'm under strict orders. Can't let you fall into enemy hands. The ECON will have to take the _Phoenix_ by force."

"If you do that, there's going to be war," Sloane says, regarding the standoff with contempt.

Chen glances at her. "What does it matter? None of us has anything left to lose."

"Now, see, I did you folks a favour earlier today," the biker drawls as he approaches, ignoring Chen. "Let you off with a warning. But somethin' didn't sit right. Somethin' about your silent friend. And so we come back to take another look, and lo and behold, there he is on the side of the road, tryin' to look all nonchalant like he belonged there." His jaw tightens with rage. "And then I saw this."

He shoves Solkar forward and pulls down his hood.

"What in the hell…" Chen gasps.

"It's god damn genetic experimentation," the biker snarls.

"He's not an augment, you idiot!" Cochrane shouts. "He's from another planet! They came here after I launched my warp ship."

"Bullshit!" the man shouts. He lowers his voice. "You scientists just can't help it, can you? Trying to make a newer, better kind of man. We lost everything because of you. Twenty-five years of war. And now you're still –" His eye twitches. "You're still messing with the God-given purity of the human genome."

"I can assure you," Solkar begins, "Dr. Cochrane is telling the truth…"

"Shut up!" the man shouts, smashing Solkar in the face with his pistol. Solkar goes down. Everyone raises their weapons.

"Stop it!" Sloane shrieks, holding her hands in front of her. "Stop it! Look at us! This man is a visitor from another planet. See?"

Solkar looks up, his face bruised, wiping thick green blood from his nose and mouth. The bikers' eyes are wide.

"He is from another planet," Sloane repeats. "He is seeing human beings for the first time. Is this what we are? Fighting over the scraps like a bunch of god damn dogs? The Vulcans have advanced technology, and they're prepared to give us humanitarian assistance. With their help, we can rebuild our planet, like the way it used to be. But better. And the only way we can do that is to set aside all the petty fighting, and the grudges, and every backward-ass thing that's preventing us from realizing our potential. We need to be better. We have to be. It is the only way there's a future for our people." She stares desperately at them. "We are human beings. Can't you see that?"

"You should listen to her," Solkar says, climbing to his feet. "Many species destroy themselves. My people nearly did so centuries ago. But even now, your planet is more than capable of supporting your population if you deploy your technology and allocate resources in a logical manner. This will of course require a broad social consensus." He wipes green blood from his mouth onto the back of his hand. "Which will be difficult to achieve. But you have seen the alternative."

Everyone is silent for a moment, watching each other in the silent evening light.

Then the blond biker removes the clip from his rifle and tosses the gun onto the ground in front of him. After a moment, his companion does the same. Ximena then tosses her rifle onto the pile, followed by Cochrane. Finally, Chen adds his pistols.

Cochrane turns to Chen. "I can't sell you the _Phoenix_. If we use it, it's got to be for the benefit of everybody."

"It's not going to be easy," he replies. "But I know there are at least some people in the ECON who would be willing to at least start talking, if a large-scale recovery project is a real possibility."

"Green will never agree to it," Ximena says.

The bald biker furrows his brow. "I know a lot of folks who think Green's had his time. Been almost thirty years. The Constitution used to mean something."

"We're all tired of fighting," the blond biker adds.

"It's gonna be hard," Sloane tells them. "It's gonna be hard as hell. But it starts here. And we can either keep making the decisions that got us to where we are, or we can decide things are gonna be different. And I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a new start."

Cochrane looks at the horizon. "It's a long god damn road."

"Perhaps," Solkar says. "However, there is no alternative but to travel it."

 **Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to drop a review. I love _First Contact_ so much, and Roddenberry's optimistic vision of the future is needed now more than ever I think. I may continue this but it's also meant to be self-contained.**


End file.
